


Alone

by galacticLEI



Category: Subnautica - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Gen, One-Shot, Spoilers, Spoilers for Subnautica, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:10:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticLEI/pseuds/galacticLEI
Summary: “I am Mark Edward Fischbach. I was a crewmember of the Aurora on its mission to construct a phasegate in the Ariande Arm, a mission funded by Alterra. During a gravity slingshot manoeuvre around Planet 4546B, the ship was struck by an unidentified energy pulse. This resulted in catastrophic hull failure, leading it to crash onto the planet’s surface. I think I… I am the only survivor.”A story based on Subnautica, with Mark as the protagonist.Currently a one-shot. Apologies for any stupid mistakes (or mistakes in general). I did this for fun with little time for fine editing.





	Alone

“I am Mark Edward Fischbach. I was a crewmember of the Aurora on its mission to construct a phasegate in the Ariande Arm, a mission funded by Alterra. During a gravity slingshot manoeuvre around Planet 4546B, the ship was struck by an unidentified energy pulse. This resulted in catastrophic hull failure, leading it to crash onto the planet’s surface. I think I… I am the only survivor.”

He’d started this little motto around day 4-5. The moment where he’d realised all his fellow crewmembers were dead. He’d started searching their destroyed life pods, reading through their PDA data, listening to their last words. It was harrowing, to say the least. All these deaths had occurred within the three hours he’d been knocked out. Three hours where he couldn’t do anything to help, although it was likely he would’ve wound up dead if he’d tried. Left powerless and ever so alone. It was an anomaly. A bout of supposed ‘luck’ that he had survived. It sure didn’t feel like it. So he had started his little motto.

It was more of a speech, if he was being honest. He had this sort of dream that some mystical ship was going to swoop in and save him. He’d introduce himself like that, the tragic survivor. His discoveries broadcast around the Federation. Not that he was ever one for fame, but that grand little idea was simply something to keep him going. A dream that had grown and chewed away at all other thought when the Sunbeam had answered his distress call. Day six that had been. His initially amazement and hope had quickly morphed to agitation. This ship, one he’d never even knew existed, hadn’t taken the distress call seriously, going as far as to practically insult the Alterra crew. He’d been sure they’d just fly on past, ignore all the calls, and he was going to be left to die. Mark had spent that night in a state, hands ripping at his hair, the blue dye having been bleached to an ugly pale nothing. Not that such a thing mattered here. Squished in his cramped, metal cage of a life pod. Playing PDA’s over and over, just to here the voices of his crew. Their voices had swarmed around him like ghosts, haunting his restless sleep.

Three fucking days later, that stupid ship had decided to investigate. Three fucking days later they noticed the scattered debris that littered the planet. Three. Fucking. Days. Mark had been close to death, at that stage. His whim to live was dwindling, all alone out there. His limited diet made him weaker by the day, his limited water, the continuous exertion. The planet no longer held terror, or wonder. It was an unending, useless fucking ocean, a thing he so despised. The sun berated his skin day by day, he was growing sore, feverish, ill. Probably some alien cough to make everything even more sad and pathetic. The PDA had mentioned something about bacteria. But he’d spent those three days travelling further and further from his life pod, something he’d usually never even imagine doing, but he seemed to develop a death wish. He was exhausted and sick and everything fucking hurt, but at that stage it didn’t even matter. He’d found fragments from the Aurora debris, constructed himself a Seaglide for faster travel. Made the constant swimming less tedious on his muscles. Those three days he’d made progress, but the kind of progress that doesn’t feel like anything. A pointless, day by day struggle. His hope the Sunbeam would call back dwindling.

Yet it did. That day a faithful radio transmission from the Sunbeam reached his life pod. Captain Avery Quinn informed him that he ‘didn’t know how bad… how many of you… I didn’t know’. Despite his hope that help may finally arrive, he could help but practically scream back at him. 

“How fucking bad? You didn’t know how fucking bad? Nine days all alone in hell! Fucking distress calls I’ve been desperately transmitting, and you didn’t even fucking think it may be bad?” Of course it was relatively nonsensical, and definitely hysterical. It didn’t even matter, the Sunbeam wasn’t able to hear him, that’s not how these transmitters worked. Rather useless, if Mark was being honest with himself. That he couldn’t send verbal messages to explain his situation. He even had his memorized speech. Useless, really. He’d laughed a bit at that. A deranged sort of sob, more than a laugh. 

That message had been on day nine. The next few days had more regular updates. Of course these helpful messages were accompanied by the fact this captain didn’t seem to know how to quiet his voice enough that Mark couldn’t hear. Kept saying many things that should be a sign this would end awfully. That this ship was very inexperienced. He didn’t care. As long as there was a chance. That dangerous thing called hope fluttered in his chest, its tendrils taking hold of his mind. You’re constantly told not to get your hopes up, that it leads to disappointment in the end. But how can such a phrase apply to a situation like this? Clearly whoever started spitting that information around had never tried to survive, he was sure of that. Without that little spark of hope he’d have died. It was his only drive. All he had to live for. And that little spark of hope growing bigger made everything bearable. He couldn’t think of the possibility that this wouldn’t work. He’d spent those next few days kept to his life pod – he wasn’t going to die before the Sunbeam arrived. He’d slept well for the first time in that week of horrors. Done nothing more but gather the odd fish for food and water and stare idly at that radio transmitter. Leaning against the curved, metal walls of that life pod, seated on the little storage container. He would’ve sat on the chair, but he had slight paranoia of it now after it had stuck him to the wall when his life pod had initially caught fire. So, he sat on a storage container in a life pod that reeked of fish and waited.

Day thirteen he got the message with coordinates. Coordinates that lead to land. Dry land. An island. Something he’d dreamed of but never considered may actually exist. So, he’d spent that day stocking up on fish and water, making sure his Seaglide was powered up. The island was around a mile south. He had to survive that trip. A trip he was fairly certain meant swimming a mile south over open ocean on an alien planet where he had no idea what lived there. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him from being rescued, that would be stupid. The advice he gave himself?

Don’t look down.

On the fourteenth day he’d set out the second the sun – or whatever star that was, number 4546? –lit up the ocean. Well that was sort of a lie, it had been the plan. It was delayed when he received a partially translated message broadcast that, while it was hard to make out, suggested some aliens had identified him and was planning to kill him pretty dead. Now, that was terrifying, obviously. Yet his response was to shoot it the double middle finger and yell “Too late fuckers!” before jumping out of his life pod and setting off south to this supposed island. 

Mark followed his own advice of not looking down rather poorly. He swam past the safe shallows he’d landed in, over Creepvine forests, where the Stalkers had practically ignored him due to swimming with his Seaglide at a relatively quick pace skimming the surface of the water. He felt he should be congratulated for his amazing naming skills. He was, after all, the first to discover all these creatures. It had been a nice pastime as he sat with his PDA and all its scanned data, alone. The Peepers were the fish his diet consisted of, dubbed that title since they had big staring eyes. His filtered water came from these fish he’d originally called Airsacks, until discovering they were actually filled with drinkable water, and they became Bladderfish. The Rabbit Rays since they had almost… rabbit-like features, Mark had decided. They were cute, although poisonous and inedible, which had made them useless to him. There were the big things that sounded and acted sorta like whales, which had terrified him at first. But they’d been quite harmless. He swam with them for a bit, their gaint backs growing entire reefs on them. So they’d been called Reefbacks. His creative naming went on, Holefish, Hoopfish, Hoverfish, Spadefish, Boomerang, Eyeye, Floater and the Garyfish- he admits he was running out of ideas on that one. 

Why was he currently remembering all these names? It was distracting him as he swam in a straight line with the sun beating down on his back. The realisation he’s distracting himself led to him looking down at the empty black pit, lapping up all available rays of light as it masked whatever was lurking in the depths. Mark nearly passed out. He started talking to himself again. Mainly about how much he utterly hated the ocean. He’d started working on Alterra ships to see space and get away from the ocean, not to crash into more of it.

Then he saw it. Land. A big ol’ spike jutting out of the water, curving down into a beach. Mark was a bit giddy at this point. Then he saw something. He could see where the island jutted off down into the depths the exact reason he’d told himself not to look down. A long tail, white and powerful, like a serpent, slid into the dark abyss out of view. The tips of its red fins gone, accompanied with a low resonating roar that seemed to shake the water around him. There was a moment where he just froze dead in his tracks, hearing his erratic breathing echoing through his mask, dwindling his oxygen supply. He stared into the void that thing had disappeared in. The reason he didn’t immediately swim for his life, was because the landing site he needed to get to was on the island, the same direction that creature was swam in. There was no assuming that thing wasn’t dangerous, it was built like a predator. For an irrational moment of fear, he debated just swimming back to his little life pod, but that would accomplish nothing. He bolted towards that island, clambering onto the shore faster than any Federation record swimmer could dream to match. Rough sand coating his front, sticking between his fingers and under his nails. 

Land. He was on land!

Mark ripped his head gear off, tossed it aside, and kissed the ground. It led to a mouthful of sand, which he spluttered out, although he didn’t particularly care. He was on land. He’d made it. Day fourteen was coming to an end, and he’d made it to land. He was going to be rescued.

He suddenly remembered the creature he’d seen moments before, and quickly grabbed his gear and stumbled and crawled further up the shore, hopefully out of reach. He collapsed there a moment, staring up at the sky, strange birds gliding past. He remembered the warnings his PDA had offered on his first day on this hellhole. ‘May contain Leviathan class predators’ – or something like that. The thing currently waiting below this island was most certainly that. He sat up, shaking his mask and Seaglide in a vain attempt to rid them of sand. Giving up, he shifted to set them down on dirt, where the beach ended, before pulling out his pack of cooked fish. It wasn’t the best quality anymore, the cured stuff saved for later, but it would do. Swallowing it down with the filtered water, which mingled with his salt-filled saliva, causing him to scowl and gag. It was all he had. He kept his survival knife sheathed and attached to him at all times. Just because he was no longer in the water, didn’t mean he was safe. This was an alien planet still, and land was new territory he had yet to examine. There could be dangerous creatures here as well.

This was confirmed when something suddenly leapt at him, and he fell back down onto the ground, knife brandished in hand. He made contact with the thing, which leapt screeching and chattering away. Some sort of four legged… crab? Thing? It seemed warier of him now he had a weapon, so he jumped to his feet, pointing his knife towards it. “Yeah! Come at me you crab-bitch! Oh you better be scared!” He challenged. “I’ve dealt with worse than…” He trails off as he looks up. Thankfully, unlike what his mind had initially registered, it wasn’t a giant creature. Instead a giant tower protruded off the beach, something very clearly technologically advanced, unlike anything he’d seen on the planet before. It was dark and metallic, highlighted with neon green, seemingly glowing highlights. His frozen moment of awe led to the crab-creature leaping towards him and attached itself to his leg, biting down. With a yelp, he kicks it off, stomping down on it with his foot and crushing it. Luckily, its mouth hadn’t pierced through his dive-suit, although he was sure it’d bruise. He collected his gear and approached the tower. It was growing dark now, the evening light illuminating the structure and emphasising its glowing green light. Upon closer inspection, the archway leading into this structure contained what appeared to be a forcefield. A control panel opened upon his approached, with a slot for a purple tablet. It didn’t take much searching to find one left haphazardly nearby, which begs the question over why whatever life-form that had built this structure had abandoned it so flippantly. 

It didn’t matter, now, at the end of day fourteen Mark made his way into the alien structure. He camped in the main entry hall, dumping his stuff in with him. It was sheltered, and no creature seemed to want to go near it, so it seemed to be a good place to sleep.

Day fifteen he awoke to the sounds of mechanical whirring, and he sprinted outside to investigate. A nearby transmission informed him the Sunbeam was in orbit, coming in to land. But that wasn’t what he was staring at, his mouth agape. The tower, or what he’d assumed to be a tower, was moving. The large structure growing taller, before shifting onto its side with loud echoing rumbling. Mark’s heart sunk when he realised. It was a gun. There was a gun protruding off this island. Somewhere his mind connected the dots. The Aurora had been shot down by a mysterious energy pulse upon entering orbit of the planet. The Sunbeam was about to meet the same fate… only it was a much, much smaller ship. The words of the captain transmitting to his PDA meant nothing now as he screamed, sprinting onto a rock face, trying to offer some sort of gesture to get them to leave. Of course it wouldn’t work, the ship moving in ever closer. There was no way to communicate with them, and only now was the crew picking up the energy reading. Mark screamed and shouted and cried fruitless words as if somehow to power of his voice could stop what he was witnessing.

With a cry from the captain corrupted with static, the Sunbeam went up in a beam of green light. The thundering pulse of energy shook the island, animals scattering, trees and plants bending and flailing. Mark could see swarms of fish shifting under the crashing waves as the flaming pieces of the Sunbeam flew into the ocean in a shower of water. He fell to his knees, the static of his PDA cutting off. Creaking and groaning as the gen set back into the place. Useless shrapnel sunk down into the depths.

There was silence.

Except there wasn’t.

The ocean still crashed against the shore. The creatures began their chirping and clattering once more. Tree’s whistled in the breeze. The alien structure emitted its faint mechanical hum. Everything kept moving.

But Mark was silent. The world echoed painfully around him as he watched the last flaming piece of the Sunbeam snuff out and disappear forever. The final cries of Avery Quinn recorded forever more on his PDA. He was crying. Pitiful, silent sobs. His body aching as he balled up his fists and hit the ground. He yelled and screamed. Of course, no response. His rescue ship had been demolished before his very eyes. Really, there was only silence. Silence from the world that had left him behind. This planet didn’t count in his mind. This Godforsaken planet always kept on moving and living and destroying everything he loved. It wasn’t part of the world he knew. Wasn’t something he wanted to know. He wanted to go home. But that was the thing. With that ship gone, this was his home.

This world kept living, breathing and chattering around him.

Yet he was never more alone.


End file.
